


Six times the Paladins realised something was up with Shiro (and one time Shiro returned the favour)

by ozbian



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Identity, Platonic Relationships, Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-17 09:16:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11848554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozbian/pseuds/ozbian
Summary: After season 3, the Paladins begin to realise that not all is right with Shiro, but they love him anyway.





	1. Reconnect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith _knows_ Shiro, but his instincts seem to have forgotten that. He's not supposed to be relying on them, anyway - the Black Paladin needs to be a controlled, cool-headed team player, not an instinct-driven, reactive loner.

Keith was tired, but he couldn’t fall asleep. It was weird. He'd never had trouble _falling_ asleep before. It was usually staying that way that was the problem. 

After a few more minutes staring at the ceiling, trying not to think, he grumbled to himself and pulled himself out of bed. 

He needed to move.

He pulled his armour on over the bodysuit and grabbed his bayard, more out of habit than intent, then paused as he reached for his helmet. 

Yeah, he was feeling unsettled, and when he felt that way the armour usually helped, but just because there were strangers in the castle – the Blade, he reminded himself, and Slav, their _allies_ – didn’t mean he had to give in to the feeling. He was supposed to be better than this, or at least trying not to let his feelings win out over logic. He was supposed to be the Black Paladin. 

And Lance would probably laugh at him. 

He growled under his breath. Lance wouldn’t be up anyway, Keith thought resentfully. _He_ would be asleep. 

“Ugh,” Keith said, then snatched the helmet up and tucked it under his arm.

***

The corridor was empty and dim, still in sleep cycle. 

Keith walked down the hall, slowing as he passed Shiro's room, then moving on. 

At the Garrison, he wouldn’t have hesitated to go in. But at the Garrison he would have already snuck past the dorm staff and the night watch and up into the senior's level, so not going in would have been stupid.

Shiro _had_ said Keith could come talk to him at any time. Keith had made sure to remind him of that everytime Shiro grumbled about monitoring programs being harsher training than the military leadership program, after they had known each other long enough to be comfortable teasing each other. After long enough that Keith had learnt about teasing that didn’t cut, thanks to observing the casual sniping between Shiro and his roommate. 

Then he would stealthily drag Shiro out to the training rooms for sparring practice. All the instructors loved Shiro, and when Keith learned they would turn a blind eye to night training if Shiro was involved, it was like being given the key to a nice, thick, stout door to lock out the night's intrusive thoughts.

One of Shiro's last nights before Kerberos, when Shiro wanted to talk about things that Keith wouldn’t ask him to give up, and Keith just wanted to spar and ignore his impending abandonment for awhile longer, the sleepy lump that was his roommate had said, “Sleep is for the weak, Shiro-gains-y, go beat up your duckling and leave me to it.” Keith remembered that he'd said Shiro's name in a weird way, and that Shiro had groaned, and that Keith had felt more pissed off than grateful for the assist, at the reminder that Shiro was leaving and he couldn’t follow, that Keith would soon be alone again. 

Then Shiro was well and truly gone, and what the hell was the point of anything if Shiro had gone where Keith couldn't follow.

Keith heard the sound of footsteps and realised that he had let his pace get away from him. He settled his breathing and began moving more deliberately, steps measured and silent. 

After finding Shiro for the first time, he still hadn’t hesitated. Barging into Shiro’s room at the castle had nearly earned Keith a new head-hole once or twice, but that was just good practice for both of them, Keith in dodging and Shiro in getting used to surprises that were more annoying than harmful, and Shiro relearning what Keith had never forgotten – that Shiro would never hurt him. Anyway, it was worth it to get his mind out of the dark currents it slipped into sometimes at night, to banish the nagging nightmare feeling that Keith had been left behind again. 

The missing arm and the lost memories and the flashbacks and the reflexive attacks, they hadn’t really phased Keith at all. It hurt to know that Shiro had been through so much shit, it really did, but he was still Shiro, still the best person Keith had ever met, the person who’d believed in Keith, just a random foster kid who'd joined the military when he aged out because he didn’t belong anywhere else, then found out he didn’t belong in the military either, had believed in him and pushed him and cared about him even when he fucked up, until Keith started to care too. 

And, yeah. Shiro had still been Shiro, just a Shiro who’d been through a lot of shit. Keith knew him, and so Keith had known what to do to help him then, and he had done it, and Shiro was mostly okay. 

Now Keith had managed to get Shiro back, _again_ , and he’d seemed pretty okay for someone who had gone through another large pile of unspecified shit. 'Just woke up in a fucking Galra lab,' Keith's ass. Like it wasn't one of his nightmares come back to life. 

This time around, though, Keith didn't know what Shiro needed. 

He'd tried all the things that he’d done last time. 

He tried being present when he thought Shiro shouldn’t be alone – in other words, all the time – but Shiro scowled at him if he stayed too long, an expression that didn’t fit the lines of his face, and asked what was wrong in the voice of strained patience that was more often directed at Lance. 

He encouraged Shiro to spend time with the others, which seemed to make him happy, but he wasn’t happy in a way that Keith was familiar with. 

He listened when Shiro made suggestions and spoke with Allura, and his decisions seemed ... not wrong, but unfamiliar, and it kept throwing him off, because he can’t anticipate Shiro as well as he used to, and it’s hard to try and make the right decisions, the decisions Shiro would have made, only to hear Shiro suggest something else. 

Keith tried to watch and learn the newly uncovered aspects of Shiro’s personality, but.

Keith was really trying, okay, how could he not, it’s Shiro, but it's like they’re on different wavelengths, or not speaking different languages. 

Why did he feel like he was night riding on unfamiliar terrain, without streetlights, without a headlight. 

Why was it so hard to stop feeling his way through everything? Why couldn’t he just think calmly and logically, like a leader is supposed to do? 

Why did Shiro pick him to be the Black Paladin? Why was Keith still the Black Paladin, even though Shiro was back? 

Why can’t he just fucking fall sleep? 

Well, Keith did know the answer to that last one. Even though Shiro was back, that nagging, nightmare feeling of being left behind still hadn’t left him. 

“Ugh,” Keith said, and started off towards the kitchen. He needed a glass of water. 

*** 

Keith tensed as he saw the long shadow standing in the kitchen area. It took awhile for his brain to translate the shape into Shiro's form. 

His hair looked wrong. That was it. Hunk had tried, but it kinda looked like one of those puff balls from preschool arts and crafts. 

Keith stood still, and stared, feeling that twinge of disconnection, that niggling feeling that something wasn't right. 

Shiro was right there, slowly eating from a bowl, undeniably real, but Keith felt alone. 

Keith had been used to the feeling back on earth, before he met Shiro. When Shiro first left Earth it was there again, but bearable when he had the Garrison to focus on and the goal of following Shiro into space. Before he'd realised something had gone wrong, and that Shiro may never be coming back, and Keith had gotten himself lost. 

Then Keith had found Shiro, and a group of people that he gradually realised he could belong with, on a castle built for thousands holding only a handful of people, every one of whom seemed to have the ability and desire to track him down at will, so sometimes he couldn’t be alone even when he wanted to be. 

When Shiro disappeared _again_ , Keith had felt alone and isolated by impossible expectations. But he hadn’t really been alone, it was just that Keith was used to being not alone with Shiro, he couldn't see the others reaching out to him until he'd nearly broken them apart, nearly left them to die on that gas planet, and the only thing that had stopped him from listening to his fucking instincts and abandoning them there was Lance shouting at him until he found the right words and Keith had to listen. 

Keith told himself that he was being an idiot. Shiro was _right there_. His team was probably sleeping _right down the hall._ Keith is not alone, Keith has Shiro and his team, and Keith is determined to bend himself into the shape that they need him to be so that Keith doesn't have lose anyone else ever again. He can’t just keep relying on instinct when he doesn’t know what else to do. He is the Black Paladin, he can master himself.

“Hey, Shiro,” Keith said softly, uncertain but determined. 

Shiro flinched, noticeably. Keith thought he would have noticed even if he hadn’t been looking closely, even in the dimmed light. He turned towards Keith. 

Keith hadn't meant to startle him. Damn it. He should have scuffed his feet or something. He would have known to do that before. 

After a long moment Shiro blinks, and the impending roadkill look is gone. “Hey, Keith.” 

... Okay, now what? 

Shiro was looking at him expectantly. 

Keith poured a glass and took a long gulp of cool water, then spoke. 

“Couldn’t fall asleep,” Keith said. 

Shiro put down his empty plate in the wash area.

“Me, neither.” 

Keith waited, but Shiro didn't offer anything else. Keith frowned, feeling that lack of connection, but chose to push on. 

“Sleep is for the weak,” he offered, thinking maybe a shared memory would help. 

Shiro's brow furrowed and Keith felt his face fall a bit. Shiro must have lost some memories of before Kerberos. Maybe that was part of why he was acting different. 

Shiro's gaze locked on his, assessing, and then he smiled encouragingly. 

“That sounds ... familiar?” Shiro leaned back against a bench. 

“Yeah. Your uh ...” Keith paused for a moment. “I don’t actually remember his name? But your roommate at the Garrison would say that sometimes. To get us to leave.” 

“Huh.” Shiro jumped up and back, sitting on the bench. Disconnection. “He was smart, right? Short, glasses, freckles maybe?” 

“...I think he was smart?” 

Shiro raised an eyebrow, and Keith admitted, “I never saw him. He was usually buried in blankets when I came by.” 

“When you came by ... to drag me down to sparring. In the middle of the night.” 

“You said I could come see you any time!” 

“Now _that_ sounds familiar,” Shiro laughed, and Keith looked down, folding his arms more tightly against his chest. 

“Keith.” He looked up and saw Shiro looking at him with soft, understanding eyes and an old, familiar smile. “Do you want to go to the training room?” 

“Yeah,” Keith said, and smiled back. 

*** 

They stood back to back. Keith had his eyes on three opponents, so there were at least four unaccounted for. He heard the steady hum of Shiro’s engaged arm, saw it blaze from the corner of his eye. He heard Shiro step forward, the crunch of simulated ground beneath his boot, and Keith stepped back in tandem, then dropped his blade to block a sweeping staff strike aimed at his knee. Keith glimpsed a sword coming in high, and felt displaced air and a clang of metal overhead as Shiro blocked the blow with his arm. He ducked under and up, blocking an energy baton aimed at Shiro’s exposed centre. He sensed Shiro reset his footing, coming down facing Keith’s former opponents.

Keith felt like he was flying Red again, or maybe it was flying Red that felt like this. 

There was a flash from the left and Keith lifted his shield on reflex. The force of the projectile pushed his shoulder back. 

Snipers were new. The Blade must have been exploring the sim settings again. Without ranged weaponry, they needed to finish these guys off fast before they got picked off. 

One of their enemies swung a heavy staff at Keith and his dodge left the droid off-balance. He didn’t hesitate, jabbing hard and striking centre mass. The enemy fell and Keith stepped back before the ground opened beneath the body. 

A flash from the right and Shiro’s shield was there, catching the blast before it could strike Keith’s exposed side. 

Keith stood in a defensive posture, feeling the tension as the melee droids circled around and in. 

One, two, three breaths, and the tension snapped. As one unit Keith and Shiro went on the offensive, striking hard and fast and moving constantly, making a difficult target for the sniper droid at the far side of the sim. One by one the droids were struck down, some by sword, others by Shiro’s arm, and the remainder by dodged blasts of friendly fire. 

Once the field was clear Keith glanced at Shiro. Their eyes met, then Shiro dashed forward left and Keith dashed forward right. The sniper switched to rapid fire and Keith heard the distant ricochet against the far wall behind, which quickly began moving left after Shiro. Keith veered back and approached the droid’s nest at a run. The impact sounds changed and Keith heard Shiro’s arm whir. Keith reached the simulated console at a run, diving over the top to see the droid bent over its weapon, firing continuously. Keith planted the knife directly into the droid’s exposed neck, and with a crackle of electricity the droid slumped forward. 

He stood up and scanned Shiro, checking for injuries he knew wouldn’t be there. 

Shiro was scanning the room, eyes calm and alert, face and posture relaxing when no threats made themselves known. 

Keith let out a slight breath and withdrew the Blade from the downed droid, flicking it out of habit before returning it to its sheath. 

He walked over to Shiro, taking off his helmet, and Shiro followed suit. 

Shiro smiled at Keith, and Keith smiled back. 

“So, looks like the training room had a few upgrades?” Shiro asked. 

Keith’s smile faded a bit, jarred at the reminder that, as much as it had felt like it, this wasn't then. 

“Slav's been able to free up some more power for ‘non essentials'.” 

Shiro stood quietly for a moment, watching Keith. 

“The offer still stands, Keith,” Shiro said after awhile. “Any time you want to talk, or spar." He smiled. “You don’t have to ambush me with smalltalk in the kitchen.” 

Keith looked down, arms folded over his chest. The words were right, they _were_ , but there was something about the tone, about the set of his eyes ... his instincts pinged wrong, wrong, wrong.

Shiro took an audible breath and stepped closer, placing his hands on Keith's shoulders. 

Keith made himself not move. 

“Keith,” Shiro said. He swallowed. “I know I’ve been hard on you lately. I know that things been ... Different, since I got back. I never would have left you all if I had a choice.” 

“I know,” Keith said. 

Shiro's grip tightened slightly, then loosened. “I’m so sorry for all that you went through while I was gone. I never wanted you to carry that weight, Keith, but I knew that you could do it if you had to.” 

"I almost killed them, Shiro," Keith said in a small voice. "I almost left them behind."

"Hey," Shiro said, voice slightly sharp. When Keith looked up, meeting his eyes, Shiro said, “I know it wasn't easy. But you kept them all safe for me. Pidge, Hunk, _Lance_ , Allura and Coran. Keith, you kept them all alive. You kept yourself alive. You kept everyone together." Shiro's voice was hoarse. "Thank you, so much.” 

Keith was almost shocked to see wetness in Shiro's eyes, and feel the same in his own. 

“I’m so proud of you,” Shiro said softly, and Keith's hands reached blindly for Shiro's shoulders. Shiro pulled Keith forward and wrapped his arms around him fiercely, metal and flesh forearms pressed tight against the backplate of his armour. Keith's head rested tight against Shiro's shoulder. 

After a moment Shiro whispered, “I’m so sorry that you have to keep taking the lead. I know it’s hard. I would take it back if I could.” Shiro ran a palm over the crown of Keith's head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, or with Black, but I’m here for you now, no matter what happens.” 

Disconnect, Keith's instincts twinged, but he told them to go fuck themselves. 


	2. Care and Feeding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tension is running a bit high, and Hunk is trying to not yell at people about self-care,

Hunk stretched mightily as he ambled into the dining hall.

Pidge was already there, typing on her laptop with one hand and shovelling food goo with the other.

“Morning, Pidge,” Hunk yawned. He went to get his own bowl from the communal urn thing that Coran had set up and ladled himself a healthy amount of food goo. The level was way down. The Locusts of Marmora must’ve swept through already.

Pidge grunted something vaguely welcoming. She’d probably been up half the night. Hunk did not approve.

He sat next to Pidge, peering curiously over her shoulder at the lines of code. “What’re you working on?”

Pidge squinted up at him for a moment, which really brought out the bags under her eyes. Tsk, Hunk thought.

“Data mining algorithm,” she said casually, then half closed the laptop lid, turning to look at him. “I’m hoping to work as many bugs out as possible so I can just feed it whenever we get some more intel. I figure if we ever stop chasing Lotor long enough to steal some fleet data, we might actually be able to find him,”

Nice try, Hunk thought, eyeing Pidge's laptop. He can smell a secret a mile away. Those variables had looked kinda biology focused, and Pidge did not usually go for the squishy sciences. He resolved to have a look later when Pidge was less on guard.

“Yeah, I’m getting pretty tired of it too. There’s so much else we could be doing.”

“Yeah,” Pidge said, sounding sad. Oh yeah, missing family.

“Man, I could almost wish for a mission,” Hunk said. Pidge frowned, distracted, and poked him in the side with her pointy death elbow. “Ow, sorry. Dude?”

Pidge tilted her head, and nodded. “Acceptable.”

“ _Dude_ , this may sound crazy, but I could almost wish for a mission. Something nice, and low stakes, and not inside a crown of metal shards defying the laws of physics as it hurtles through enemy occupied space.” Hunk threw his arms wide. “Why must we defy the laws of physics, Pidge? The law exists for our own good. It only wants what's best for us.”

“We’re pretty much rebel freedom fighters,” Pidge replied. “If we listened to the law we’d have to hand ourselves in.”

Keith wandered in. He was still gross and sweaty from early morning training and Hunk noticed with a frown that there was a hint of dark circles under his eyes, too.

For a group full of smart people, his team mates could be pretty stupid about the important things.

Keith immediately focused on Pidge and her laptop. “Any luck on that tracking thing?” he asked, taking his life in his hands.

Pidge scowled a little “Keith, come _on_ ,” she said. “We've been eating that guy’s particle trail for _weeks_. If we'd made a breakthrough in an advanced alien species’ version of a physics based millennium prize problem and found a way to magically increase the tracker's range, you would have been the first to know.” Pidge tapped her lip with her spoon, then did the finger county thing. “Well, third to know. I’d have to rub Slav's face in it first.”

“Ugh.” Hunk said to himself. It was too early for this, again.

“You know he’d just say, 'I knew 3.54 percent of you could do it!’ then tell you how we’re all gonna die,” Lance said sunnily as he sauntered in, looking all sparkly-eyed and bushy-tailed. “Hey guys.”

“Hey, buddy,” Hunk said, cheering up. Now here’s a guy who knew the importance of sleeping more than 6 hours a cycle and not killing them all in a moment of sleep-deprived bad judgment. It was good to not be the only sensible one.

“Aww man,” Lance complained brightly as he spotted what was on the menu. He served himself and then settled in next to Hunk.

Hunk really did not understand all the apathetic hate of food goo. Sure it was kinda bland, but it was filling, and met most of their nutritional needs, and it reminded him of jello. From Coran’s paladin meals, Hunk thought that Alteans must have a different sense of taste, and if Hunk really paid attention to the food goo, he was sure he could almost taste some kind of something, right at the edge of his taste buds.

Aside from that, Hunk was a man who appreciated taste, and smell, and texture, and the alchemy of transformation that was cooking a meal, and he never enjoyed those things more than after spending awhile eating nothing but food goo. It was the best palate cleanser. He made sure to savour the next bite.

Keith was still standing next to the doorway, arms folded over his chest tightly, like he was trying to hold himself back from something.

Lance said, “What’s up, fearless leader?” and Hunk sighed heavily.

It was sad being the only sensible one.

“ _What’s up_ , is that we need to find Lotor,” Keith said with growling conviction. “And no one else seems to be taking this seriously!”

Hunk got up hurriedly, dished out another serve of food goo, and shoved into Keith’s startled hands before propelling him into a seat.

“Thanks,” Keith said, immediately distracted, just as Hunk had hoped.

Keith ate like a fuel efficient robot, with no energy spared for savour or manners. It was kinda insulting sometimes? But Hunk had concluded long ago that Keith was actually raised by wolves, so he tried to be understanding about it. And it could be useful.

Everyone was so tense lately. It felt like he was running around diffusing time bombs just before they got to zero.

It made his throat feel tight, like he could feel ants crawling around in there.

He felt his shoulder jostle and turned to see Lance giving him a bright smile and thumbs up. Hunk couldn’t help but smile back.

“We hit a wall, Keith.” Hunk said, for the tenth time this week. “A physics wall, not a tech wall. At this point it’s like trying to punch gravity or something?” He pulled his hands into loose fists in front of his chest and then pretend-punched the air. “We could build an awesome high tech punching machine, which could be fun, but it still won't be able to punch gravity.”

Keith kinda pouted. “You don't need to explain everything to me with fighting stuff,” he said, but it looked like he was dropping it for now.

Hunk shrugged. “I like using practical examples,” he said, which was true.

The next arrival was Shiro, which was announced by the sudden twitch of Keith’s head in the direction of the doorway.

Shiro smiled at everyone and said good morning, then went to fetch his breakfast.

Hunk looked him over, as he had all of the others. Shiro looked worn down and tired too, and kind of pale – the scar across his nose stood out a bit more sharply than usual.

It used to seem like Shiro never got tired but, Hunk thought a bit guiltily, maybe that was because Hunk hadn’t been looking for it. Shiro had always seemed like a dependable, kind, steady rock before. That wasn’t an insult, Hunk liked rocks. They were stable, and sometimes nice.

But since Keith and Black had found Shiro again, Hunk had been paying closer attention, even though it made him a bit anxious to realise that Shiro wasn’t as infallible as he’d seemed before.

There were some things that were definitely changes, though.

Shiro used to eat kind of similarly to Keith, but with a better user interface – more manners, occasional social interaction, smiles and compliments, but the same efficient motions with not much time taken just to taste.

Now, though, Shiro took his time, like he was savouring every bite. Hunk didn’t want to think about what could have caused such a change, but he liked that Shiro seemed to be enjoying simple things a bit more.

Lance was a good ally in the quest to introduce the other humans to the apparently fringe concepts of self-care and taking some time out so you don’t go crazy before you can finish saving the universe, but they could use some more back up.

The team was called into the control room before Shiro managed to finish. Hunk definitely caught a forlorn look on Shiro’s face as he looked down at his bowl. It was kind of adorable.

Food has always been important to Hunk, but maybe it was just as important to the others, even if they didn't realise it. Hunk's an engineer, he knows the importance of simple, practical things, even if other people overlook them. Hunk resolved to do something about it.

After a moment Shiro resolutely picked up his bowl and placed it in the washing area, then lead the team up to the control room.

***

"We have two options," proclaimed Allura, "We have received some information suggesting that Lotor may have been in the Archax quadrant recently ..." Keith perked up from his slouch against Black's chair, "... however, as you are all well aware, we have had several such leads recently and all have come to nothing."

"We only need to get within a set radius of him, or catch his trail," Keith said, brow furrowed.

"Yes," Coran interrupted, bringing up the holomap display. "But the Archax quadrant is vast, and it is one of the central areas of the Galra empire."

"It is crawling with enemy ships," Allura said. "It's a high risk situation for a questionable outcome, which is why I wanted to get some input before a decision is made."

Lance raised his hand. "What's the second option?" he asked.

"That," Coran said enthusiastically, "is the Acquila Quadrant solar movement festival, one of the biggest festivals in what's left of free space." Coran gestured towards a busy intersection of space on the map. "There's markets, entertainment, social gatherings, diplomatic meetings, finger food, all from all sorts of cultures. All of the planets in the area, and even some individual planet-side states and established space stations, all meet up at one of the planets every  few solar movements. The host planet is chosen by a random selection process, however they do have to volunteer for the draw, you see..."

"That sounds great!" Lance said. "I haven't been out in the sun in ages, I feel like I'm wilting."

Allura looked at him sceptically. "I did not think that humans photosynthesised."

"Oh yeah," Hunk chimed in. "Well not photosynthesis, but we need exposure to sunlight for our skin to produce certain vitamins." Hunk tapped his chin. "Actually we should probably get some plant material while we're there." Keith squawked a bit at the assumption that the destination was decided, but Hunk went on. "We've been living on food goo for ages now, not that I mind, but there's trace metals and minerals that humans need to stay in good shape long term that we can't get from goo."

"I know that you are not mineral-based lifeforms!" Allura said indignantly.

"Now, now, Princess," Coran said, "Not everyone has the fortitude to survive on food goo alone, why I recall that the Blue Paladin of old ..."

"I've had scurvy before," Pidge interrupted. "It wasn't great. I'd rather not do that again." Everyone looked at her. "What?" she said. "I was preoccupied with trying to hack into government databases and break into the Garrison and stuff, and noodles are the most efficient type of food there is!"

Hunk resolved to keep a closer eye on Pidge's food intake in the future, and maybe sneak in some more vegetables. Maybe that was why she was so grumpy lately.

... Huh. Hunk had an idea. 

"But we need to catch Lotor," Keith said. "Maybe we'll be fast enough this time. We have him on the run! If we stop chasing him, we'll give him enough time to settle in somewhere and build a stronghold or, or enslave another planet or something."

Kolivan stepped forward. "The festivals are very crowded and busy places," he said, "and also very popular. It makes them good places to gather information from people travelling from far away. It also makes a convenient ... exchange point. There may be information available to the Blade that will assist in our search."

"Hey, Pidge, didn't you say you were working on a data mining algorithm to help out with the search for Lotor?" Hunk asked. Pidge gave him a flat look, but Hunk just smiled at her innocently.

"Yeah, I did say that," Pidge mumbled as everyone turned to look at her. "It uh, it needs a bit more tweaking, but if you can get me some raw data pulled from one of the fleet flagships, or just get me as much electronic data as you can from the Galra, their supply ships, that sort of thing ... it will probably help with finding Lotor, but even if it doesn't it could be really useful for other projects."

"We should totally set up our own booth at the festival!" Hunk exclaimed. "I could experiment with all of the different types of food available at the market, make lots of delicious samples of different styles of food using different alien ingredients, and you can use it as a tasty metaphor for people coming together to build something new and diplomacize people into joining the alliance!"

Allura was silent for a minute, then said, "Hunk, that's brilliant!"

She turned around, a sudden whirlwind of planning and efficiency, and began calling out orders.

Lance slipped over to Hunk and threw an arm around his shoulders. "Hunk," he whispered, "Did you just get us a holiday on a nice festival planet where we can hang out in the sun, eat food and meet people all day?"

Hunk smiled back at him. "I'm gonna talk to Slav about getting some hydroponics set up somewhere in the castle as well," he replied. "If the markets are anything like the ones at home, there should be fruit trees and stuff available."

Lance suddenly brought his other arm up around Hunk's chest, enveloping him in a sideways hug. "Fresh food, whenever we want it," Lance said starry-eyed. "Hunk, I know I've said this before, but you are really, really smart, and I really, really love you."

"Aww," Hunk cooed, and hugged him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetaed, concrit welcome :)

**Author's Note:**

> I just. Have a lot of feels, and headcanons, and notes about Kuron


End file.
